


Clock

by Uozumi



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Spoilers, brief memory of cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 18:02:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uozumi/pseuds/Uozumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three months ago, Will was arrested. Something occurred to clear him of suspicion. Prepared to return to his boat motors, Will finds a clock he scribbled at home in a fit of desperation, and a design permeates his senses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clock

**Author's Note:**

> **Fandom** _Hannibal_ (2013)  
>  **Character(s)/Pairing(s)** Will Graham, no pairings intended  
>  **Genre** Drama/Future Fic/Gen  
>  **Rating** PG-13  
>  **Word Count** 516  
>  **Disclaimer** Hannibal c. NBC  
>  **Summary** Three months ago, Will was arrested. Something occurred to clear him of suspicion. Prepared to return to his boat motors, Will finds a clock he scribbled at home in a fit of desperation, and a design permeates his senses.   
> **Warning(s)** spoilers up through season one episode eleven, brief memory of cannibalism  
>  **Notes** This is based on a drawing I’ve been poking at for a few days now. I felt compelled to write something like it.

**_Clock_ **

It was spring and the sunset was bright orange. Will no longer hallucinated. He could sleep without drowning in sweat. The bureau arrested him in the throngs of madness and charged with the recent murders. Hannibal and Jack told him Will was the Chesapeake Ripper and Will believed them. There was an initial hearing. Will could not remember it any longer. He did not know what happened, but recently something occurred, prompting his release and no need for a trial. 

Will did not hold his special agent status or his teaching position any longer. When he returned home, he knew what he should do. His dogs were gone. He had no reason to stay. Will began to pack essentials, necessities, and some things he did not think would be wise to leave. Everything was dusty. He could tell forensics had been through his house months ago. Will began pulling books off a shelf that he might need. He sneezed without warning and dropped one of the books, scattering scrap paper tucked loosely inside. 

Will picked up the papers and stopped short. Haphazardly across one of the papers was presumably a clock. Will put his glasses on and held the paper farther away. The circle was about as good as any he ever drew, but the numbers were off to one side along with the hands of the clock. He remembered drawing the clock in desperation, trying to ground himself in his own home. This did not look like the clock he remembered, but he knew it had to be. 

There was a flash, almost like looking at a dead body, but quieter, subtler. Will saw himself through a powerful, cunning design. Will was the ripper looking at himself, the investigator, the most troublesome investigator. The ripper offered food, a kindness laced with sickness. The ripper used words such as friend, but it was a designation. The investigator could not be food. 

Will, as the ripper, put his hand on the investigator’s shoulder. He offered comfort at the right moments. He offered advice. The ripper offered food. It was not vegetarian, because it had always been people. The texture memory of the cooked human flesh coupled with Abigail’s questioning gaze at the dinner table caused Will to open his eyes. 

“This is my design,” he whispered in the growing darkness. 

Will’s hand moved to touch a dog’s head, but there were no dogs. Will shook his head. His knees buckled and he sat hard on the bed. The paper fluttered to the ground. Nausea swelled. He closed his eyes tight and fought the urge. His fingers tangled in his curls and he bowed his head. Slowly his fingers loosened and he raised his head. 

Will was home because the designed allowed it. He was disgraced and served his purpose. He spent three months under suspicion. There would soon be three bodies if there were not already. Will closed his eyes, imagining Hannibal carving the meat. Will forced his eyes open and let out a sigh in his dark home. The walls settled with quiet groans in reply. 

**The End**


End file.
